You see a pair of giant sandals come into view and your gaze slowly pans up, almost against your will. The figure of the giantess in the door sends a fresh wave of fear down you and you involuntarily empty your bladder into your space suit. Dressed in the style of a primitive barbarian, her muscled body is draped in the skins of slain behemoths and she holds at her side a wicked club tipped with cruel iron spikes. Despite all the massive scope of her, your eyes can't help but focus on that club and see the blood stains covering is dull points. You wonder how many creatures your size and larger have met their demise beneath its crushing weight.
"Blarthrag noor?!" The Amazon intones in her deep but feminine voice. You fiddle with your universal translator trying to get the device clipped to your ear but fear makes your hands shake and you wind up dropping the fragile thing to the stone below where it shatters. Looking up from your last chance at diplomacy you see the giantess striding toward you, her face an angry thundercloud poised between powerful shoulders. "Gorvel ek du turanok, SPLAY!!" Her feet slam down on either side of you the force of their impact sending you prone. You look up to see her raising her club. It comes down on you in a swift arc, its shaft the length of a sizable sycamore, its bulbous spiked head the width of volkswagen. Emitting a shriek which sounds small, even to you, you fall to the ground. The club follows you and hits the stone with a loud 'ka-chunk.' Immediately you feel hard metal pinching in on you on either side. Above, the weapon's splintering shaft mashes you flat. You manage with effort to turn your head to the side and get a close-up view of one of the spikes. You must be the luckiest man in the galaxy, you wound up right between the killing points. Others, you realize noticing the cracked remains of a femur embedded in the wood, haven't been so lucky.
You are forced to reobserve your luck as the club begins to rise and you find you're stuck, the rigid contours of your space suit lodged between the two points of iron. It lifts into the air, recalled by its brutal mistress's flexing biceps and its carrying you with it -- screaming all the way. For a moment you watch her looking for you obviously having expected to find your bloodied carcass still beneath her neolithic mace. Eventually, and unfortunately for you, her crude intelligence puts two and two together and her eyes drift in your direction. Wildly you squirm, knowing this is your last chance to free yourself, but you can not begin to match the force that drove you into such a wedge. The Amazon, however, can. Her giant calloused fingers pick you out as easily as you'd pick a wad of food from between your teeth and for a moment you get a close up view of her face.
She might have been attractive had she made any effort at self grooming. Instead her face is dirty and pot-marked, her lips are cracked and her red hair is a lumpy tangle of what you could only call dreads (though this was truly an offense to the Neo-Rastafarians of Alpha-Zion 4). She smiles at you showing rows of yellow teeth, but it quickly turns to a snarl once she notices something. "GALUG NWAP!" The words very nearly knock you out from between her fingers with their pounding decibels. She shakes you a few times, scrambling your perceptions as fully as a pan-galactic gargleblaster might. Then she starts picking at your space suit tearing it away from you bit by little bit. She drops each tiny piece to the floor, her only interest evidently being you. She grips your arm in between her massive thumb and forefinger and you can see she's wondering if this is part of your suit. "Please," you scream terribly conscious of what's about to happen, "please n..." She pulls just a bit and the arm pops out of its shoulder joint jarring you with pain. She pulls again and your arm tears completely off opening up a fountain of blood from inside you. In too much pain to see what she does with your dismembered arm you can only writhe as you listen to loud chewing sounds above you.
Blood loss, is dimming your vision and slowing your brain but you can see clearly enough her lips growing larger before you. She sticks you past their parting membrane over crooked rows of teeth where you very nearly fill her mouth. A wide flat tongue is undulating beneath you. Suddenly it raises up and slick with her saliva you can do nothing to stop your descent down her throat. Legs kicking in a futile display you go down her gullet. Passing through a rhythmically contracting passage you are squeezed through a narrow tensing opening which spurts you out into hot steamy air. You land with a splash in a pool of liquid. Some of this foul soup goes in your mouth and instantly starts burning the sensitive tissue within. With dread you realize where you are -- in her stomach. The nightmarish thought is your last as what remains of your blood seeps out into her bowels and you sink down into the depths of her digestive juices to be slowly dissolved.
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